


Family

by guera



Series: Time keeps on slippin' [5]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen, more of this crazy universe, won't understand if you haven't read the first parts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-19 09:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12407481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guera/pseuds/guera
Summary: Peter Quill was ten when he was given the codes to his very own M-ship. He started running solo jobs when he was thirteen. Nevermind the fact that Yondu probably had about ten trackers scattered around theMilanohe never once turned the ship towards Earth.





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read the earlier parts you'll probably be lost...

Earth Year – 1995

The Ravengers are celebrating… something. Pete can hear them from two levels away as he splits from Rocket and Groot, the two of them headed to their bunk with a bag full of things Pete's pretty sure is on Nova's Level 4 Restricted List. As long as they don't blow up the ship, Pete's willing to leave them to it.

The mess is a study in chaos, Yondu and his lieutenants in the center, the sound of several voices trying to talk over each other echoing off the metal walls. Pete stays in the doorway watching. Tuluk is recounting some story that apparently needs full body narration and Yondu is watching the man with an amused look on his face. 

Pete knows he could join them, in fact Kraglin's caught his eye and is inclining his head in invitation, but Pete's a little too tired to deal with the crew's usual brand of chaos and he just shakes his head. There is one person missing from around Yondu and Pete raises an eyebrow in question. Kraglin presses his lips together before rolling his eyes up and shrugging. Pete dips his head in thanks before backing out of the mess, no one else the wiser.

He makes a pit stop in his bunk (Groot's asleep and Rocket is muttering to himself in way that Pete's learned to steer clear of) before heading up to the main flight deck. He is unsurprised to find Quill slouched in the pilot's chair, one leg thrown over the armrest. He falls into one of the nav chairs and props his feet carefully up on the control panel. 

“So, what's everybody celebrating?”

Quill rolls his head to look at him and snorts, “They had alcohol.” 

“Ah,” Pete says before pulling out a green glass bottle from the bag he dropped on the ground, “We have alcohol, wanna celebrate?”

Quill's lips quirk up in a smile and he makes a gimme motion with his hands and so Pete tosses him the bottle, “Di'ya steal this from Jaxis?”

Pete clutches his chest in mock offense. “I paid for that I'll have you know.”

Quill shoots him a knowing look, “He figured it out, huh?”

Pete slumps, “I thought I did a decent enough job framing Asher, but well...” He lifts a hand as if to say, _what can you do?_ He leans down and digs another bottle out of the bag at his feet. “So what's got you in a mood?”

“Who says I'm in a mood?”

Pete snorts, “Me.” When he just gets a glare in response he continues with, “You ain't down drinking with the rest of the crew,” he pointedly looks around the deck, “And you've run off whatever poor sonuvabitch that got assigned night duty with you.” He raises the bottle to his lips and gives Quill a look.

Quill huffs at him, “ _You're_ not drinking with the crew.”

Pete rolls his eyes, “I've been awake 29 hours, Rocket is building something in my bunk that I'd like to have plausible deniablility about, and you're ass wasn't where you shoulda been.”

“Someone's gotta pilot the ship.”

Pete looks out into the darkness of deep space. “Oh yes, we'd be dead without you at the controls.”

“Brat.” Quill's trying to hide a smile with the bottle but failing.

Pete lets the silence drag for a moment before, “So, really, what's up?”

“Do ya ever miss Terra?”

It's not what Pete is expecting, and he has to take a moment to think about it. “Not really? I mean, miss hamburgers...”

“Uh, god yes. I could make a killing abducting some cows and setting them up on a compatible planet.”

Pete chuckles at the thought but sobers quickly. He knows Quill and he are related, though he's never pushed about it. He knows there are few species that all the members are similar in phenotype and that sometimes when someone new comments on how alike Quill and he look, Quill just says it's cause they're both Terrans and the matter gets dropped. But Pete sees the similarities and he knows it's a touchy subject so he leaves it alone. For five years he's looked up to the man like a big brother.

“Do you miss Terra? Do you… Do you have...people back on Terra?” And Pete isn't really sure he wants to know the answer, but Quill's looking at him intently.

“Do you?” Quill counters. 

And for the first time in longer than Pete would like to admit he thinks of a hospital hallway, a man that just watched his daughter die, and an order to stay put. A man that didn't have a clue as to what happened to his grandson.

He morbidly wonders if they declared him dead.

“I don't know.” is what he settles on.

Quill sits up and turns so he's facing Pete. “Yondu didn't give you a choice, just snatched you and ran. You've had the _Milano_ for nearly five years, been doing solo jobs for nearly two, yet you've never ran back to Terra.” 

Pete scoffs, “What exactly would I be running back to? I'm only fifteen… they wouldn't even let me drive a _car_ on Terra, much less my ship. Here I have a ship, and a crew, and...” He looks away a bit, feeling his ears redden, “And family.” Pete narrows his eyes, “Why? Do you _want_ me to go back to Terra?”

“No,” Quill's blinking a bit and shaking his head like he's not sure how they got to this topic of conversation in the first place. “No, Terra is the last place you need to be.”

And that's interesting. Pete wonders if he should try pushing his luck and it might be a mix of the sleep deprivation or the alcohol but he finds himself asking. “Why?”

He expects to be brushed off with a bullshit answer, he's gotten pretty used to it over the years so when Quill actually gives him a real answer all he can do is stare in shock.

“Because your asshole father might find you.”

Pete opens and closes his mouth a few times before settling on, “You know my Dad?”

Quill grimaces and stares out the front viewscreen. “He's not your Dad.”

“Just because you have a problem with him...” Pete trails off as Quill pins him with a look.

“He killed your mom.” 

The expression that stretches across Pete's face might be described as a smile by someone who's never seen one. “My mom died of cancer.”

Quill's face is still and expressionless. “He put the tumor in her head.” 

Pete can feel the blood draining from his face. “What.” He'd never told anyone about how his mother died.

“This isn't how I was going to tell you.” Quill looks sick.  
.  
Pete just feels like he's in shock. “I'm not sure there is a _good_ way to tell someone their father put a _brain tumor_ in their mother's head.” He feels the first tiny crack form. “She loved him.”

Quill's out of the pilot chair and across the deck before the first sob gets caught in Pete's throat. They are a mess of limbs and leathers but they end up on the floor, leaning back against the nav chair, Pete tucked under Quill's chin like he was ten again and had a nightmare. 

“We are going to make that bastard pay. Do ya hear me Pete? We're gonna destroy him.” Quill promises the top of Pete's head. Pete nods, not trusting his voice.

They sit like that for a long time, until Pete's breathing even out and he starts feeling his eyes slip shut. Quill adjusts a bit before reaching out and snagging the bottle he dropped on the floor. He takes a long drag before saying, “I've got to swing by Terra.”

Pete blinks open sleep heavy eyes, “But it's a restricted planet.”

“I'm aware.” Quill says drily, “But still gotta go.” He pauses and Pete's pretty sure Quill's staring at the top of his head. “I'm willing to play mailman if you got a message you want sent.”

Pete leans back and looks at Quill. “I'm not sure what I would say.”

Quill shrugs. “I'm alive? I'm happy?”

“I haven't written in English in years...”

“I'm sure between the two of us we could put something together.”

Pete nods, “When are you leaving?”


	2. chapter two

Chapter 2

Yondu doesn't even open his eyes when he hears the door hiss open. There is only one fool on this ship that would dare just barge into his bunk without knocking.

“Go 'way, Quill.” He knows it's useless but he figures he ought to make the token protest.

“Can't.” Yondu groans as the bed dips from the weight of Quill sitting on the edge. “Gotta talk to you.”

“Ship on fire?” He seriously considers dragging the blanket over his head. If Quill had just wanted a horizontal surface to sleep on away from the kids (he knew the _Milano_ was back on ship) that would have been one annoyance, but if that had been the case Quill would've just burrowed under the blankets and jabbed him a few times to get the space he wanted. 

There's a pause before, “Don't think so.” 

Yondu pries one eye open and glares at Quill's back. “Then ya don' gotta talk to me, 'm sleepin'.”

Quill slants a look over his shoulder at him and in the low lights Yondu can clearly see the guilt, “Still gotta talk to you.”

That gets Yondu to pry the other eye open, “Wha' the hell d'ya do, boy?” The silence drags on for a few moments while Quill stares at the wall before he prompts with, “Well?”

“Tryin' to decide which part to tell you first,” Quill admits. 

Yondu rubs a hand over his face, “Ya couldn't a figured that out 'fore wakin' me?”

Quill huffs out a laugh, “If I thought about it too much I prob'ly would've just gotten on the _Maggie_ and disappeared for awhile.” 

“Jus' spit it out, kid.”

Yondu watches Quill's shoulders raise as he takes a deep breath, “I'm going to Terra.”

“Oookay,” he draws the word out to give his half awake brain time to process, because that little declaration isn't the reason Quill still won't look at him. And then it clicks. “Ya wanna take Pete.”

“No,” and he actually turns to look at Yondu and repeats, “No. And besides the kid doesn't want to go.”

“You asked him?”

Quill grimaces, “Not exactly, but I explained why it wouldn't be a good idea.” And he's gone all twitchy again.

Yondu narrows his eyes, “What exactly did ya explain?” 

Quill hunches his shoulders before muttering, “I might'a said something about his father.”

Yondu feels a flash of rage before getting a stranglehold on it. They'd discussed the whole Pete and Ego thing, they had a plan, but well, Quill was always one for changing plans. “What exactly did you tell him?” And he tells himself it's irritation, not fear that's singing through his veins.

And Quill turns so he's got one leg curled up on the bed and Yondu can see his profile. “Not much, really. Just that he's an asshole.” He chews his bottom lip before slanting a look Yondu's way, “And that he killed Mom.”

And the pain in Quill's voice is enough to wipe the rage, the irritation and the fear clear and leaves a deep wish that he could fix it. But he's not the one with the time traveling rock in his hand. He's not sure how Quill has resisted the temptation to figure out how to go back further in time. 

And the boy's still wound up tight, waiting on what he expects to be a chewing out, but Yondu just sighs and says, “Okay.”

Quill stills like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop and when the silence drags on for a few heartbeats he turns and actually looks at Yondu. “Wait, that's it?”

“I'm in a good mood,” he lies easily enough. “'Sides, long as the kid s'not gonna run off and do somethin' stupid...”

“I don't think he will.” Yondu raises an eyebrow at this but Quill just shrugs, “I didn't give him too much information.”

“Kid's smart.” 

Quill smirks, “Thanks.”

Yondu brings a leg up and kicks him off the edge of the bed. While the brat is picking himself up off the floor he melts back into the blankets. “Ya should take someone with you to Terra.”

“Huh?” Quill's seems to have given up on the getting up and has his arms propped up on the bed, his chin resting in one palm. “Why?”

Yondu gives him a look before, “Ya found another one, didn'cha? Ya gonna hide it on Terra.”

“How did you...”

Yondu snorts, “Ya ain't as sneaky as ya think ya are. Tha' containment sphere ya were askin' for.” He wonders if he really wants to know the answer before he asks the next question. “Is it on my ship?”

There's a few beats of silence before, “Yeah.”

Yondu studies Quill's face, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his jaw. “It bothers you, being close to it.”

Quill looks down and pulls at the blanket between his fingers. “It's hard to explain, I just know it needs to be safe… and not with me.”

Yondu grabs his forearm and pulls him up onto the bed. “So ya'll take the thing to Terra, ain't nobody look for it there.” He grunts as he gets an elbow in his side for his kindness. “And ya'll take someone with ya.”

It takes Quill longer than it should to get settled, but he finally stills, “Yeah, alright.”

XXX

It's not the first time Kraglin's been on a job where he's only been given the bare bones of the details, but this is a bit ridiculous. Three cycles out and he's still not entirely sure why they're headed to Quill's home planet and considering the penalties if they get caught on a restricted planet… well, if _he_ gets caught. Quill being Terran can't exactly be prosecuted for being on his home planet. 

And Quill's in an odd mood. Had been since before they even left. Had been since he got back from whatever was that last job he pulled two weeks ago. He'd let Kraglin fly.

Kraglin's half afraid the man's dying.

He pushes all those thoughts out of his head as he flips switches on the controls, turning off autopilot. “We're 'bout to cross the blockades.” He sees Quill drop into the chair next to him out of the corner of his eye, but his focus is on maneuvering the ship far around any of the sensors that would alert the Nova Empire that someone was flying close to one of their restricted planets. 

“I'll take it from here.” 

And Kraglin is happy to let the flight controls go, happy that the pressure is off and happy that Quill almost sounded like himself at that point. It only takes a few, tense minutes but then they are free and headed towards a blue and green planet that looms large in the front viewscreen. 

There are satellites to dodge, but the air traffic is non existent and it feels weird to Kraglin that a planet that is obviously teaming with life, has such a dead atmosphere. “Do Terrans not have _any_ ships?”

“They went to the moon in like, the '60s? And they've got the ISS, which I think has people in it all the time.” Quill's distracted by the navigation. “That'll work.” he mutters to himself before slanting a grin Kraglin's way, “Hope you don't mind a bit of a walk.”

It turns out to be much more than _a bit_ of a walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love all y'all!

**Author's Note:**

> There should be three chapters to this. Thank you to everyone who's reading and commenting and leaving kudos!


End file.
